


The Nightmare Radio

by Pirate_Captain_Conan



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Radio, Archivist Sasha James, Avatar Georgie Barker, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), Eventual Romance, Gore, I'm so happy I can use that tag, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Wears a Skirt, Multi, Murder, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Screenplay/Script Format, Tags May Change, i know this looks bad but i promise none of the characters you care about die, istg i dont know why i can only write flesh statements. i am so sorry, its just part of a story, rated mature for harsh language and general statement themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25534885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pirate_Captain_Conan/pseuds/Pirate_Captain_Conan
Summary: A new radio show is airing tonight, filled with spooky (that's a bad word Georgie and you know it) stories to make you shiver with fear! Tune in to hear funny banter between your hosts, Jonathan Sims, the esteemed academic critic with no sense of humour but a great voice for narration; and Georgie Barker, the chief of sass and the mother of the best cat in the world, The Admiral!So get comfy, settle down with whatever you think keeps you safe. Check your doors, your cupboards, your wardrobe; our story may bring the monsters out to play. Are you ready?Set around the time of Season 1, except Jon never joined the archives and stayed in touch with Georgie. Jon acts more like season 5 Jon bc im the author and I don't like writing season 1-3 Jon.
Relationships: Georgie Barker & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood/Sasha James/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 104
Kudos: 179





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New fic! am I already writing a fic? yes. is this a bad idea due to my mass procrastination? also yes.
> 
> thank you Paige for beta-ing this chapter (at least I assume you did, my WiFi is bad and I know you agreed to do it, I saw you start reading and I didn't see any corrections afterwards so I think it's fine).
> 
> Now Tune in quickly! the show is about to air!

**(A deep voice, slightly gravelly, starts speaking. The audio is low quality, as though someone shoved a paper bag over the mic, but there appears to at least be a pop filter.)**

Welcome, all you creeps and critters, to our first episode of… The Nightmare Radio! 

**(A bubbly voice tunes in, not overly high pitched, but definitely not as low as the first voice.)**

Oh, lighten up, Jon! You're happy to be here really! 

**Jon**

I can't make my scowl audible enough. Besides, Georgie, you only wanted me here because I have- and I quote- "a good narrator voice" and  _ I _ am only here because you threatened to take my cat away. 

**Georgie**

_ Our  _ cat. Anyway! What's the story in Balamory? What do you want to know? 

**Jon**

_ (heavily irritated already) _ I'm sure that phrase is copyrighted. For our first story, and this one was a real  _ nightmare _ -

**(Georgie snickers in the background)**

**Jon**

**(Continued)**

-to record. We had to use a tape recorder that someone put in our studio,  _ then _ buy a cassette to mp3 adapter! Talk about a bloody hassle. 

**Georgie**

_ (Stage whisper)  _ Best part: we have  _ no idea _ how the tape got there!  _ I  _ certainly didn't put it on the desk- never owned one in my life- and Jon already hates the things (that's a track record by the way, they normally take at least a week to hate something). 

**Jon**

_ (with an agonised groan)  _ Am I gonna get to play the audio or are you just going to butt in? 

**Georgie**

Nope! Play away, Mx. Maestro! 

**Jon**

That's not the right- ugh never mind. Found on Reddit from user Nate with several exclamation marks (the inner grammar nerd in me is screaming) after he told his story to The Magnus Institute. 

**Jon**

_ (in a darker tone, and much slower than they previously had spoken) _ So get comfy, settle down with whatever you think keeps you safe. Check your doors, your cupboards, your wardrobe; our story may bring the monsters out to play. Are you ready?

**(a pause full of dead air and static)**

**Jon**

**(Continued)**

Then let's begin! 

**Jon**

**(recorded)**

The Angler Fish, story of Nathan Watts. Narrated by Jonathan Sims. 

_ "This all happened a couple of years ago, so I apologise if some of the details are a bit off. I mean, I feel like I remember it clearly but sometimes things are so weird that you start to doubt yourself..." _

**Georgie**

_ (Sharp breathe in)  _ So that's the story! Any research notes, Jon? 

**Jon**

Well I went to The Magnus Institute- where Nathan Watts said he gave his story first- and asked to use their library, you know, to gather information.  _ Unfortunately _ , I was dragged down to the building's… basement, and met the archival crew. Charming people, I'm sure. Far nicer than  _ you  _ at least! 

**Georgie**

Oh really? How nice were they? 

**Jon**

_ (fondly)  _ Well, a man far taller than me-

**Georgie**

That's not difficult to do. 

**Jon**

**(Continued)**

Shush! This man, lovely ginger hair, very curly, asks me if I want a cup of tea right off the bat! So I say yes, just to be polite, and I fully expected something abysmal!

**Georgie**

_ (mockingly shocked) You!  _ Polite? Who are you and what have you done to the Jon I know? And you can't comment on tea, you put yours in the microwave! 

**Jon**

_ (defensive) _ I confess to my crimes and it's a perfectly fine thing to do. Now, Georgie, let me talk about these amazing people! 

So this bloke gives me the best tea I've ever had! And Georgie, his smile! His cheeks were so round, and he had dimples! 

As well as him, there was another man- before you ask, I am  _ not  _ saying their names- my G-d this man has to be LGBT+! I have never seen someone pull off a hawaiian shirt like  _ that _ . He has the world's fluffiest hair- not like the ginger one's curly hair that's unruly but very good- like someone took a rubber balloon to it and then combed it down! He was really nice to me. He was complimenting me on my hair and my skirt- that long tan one. Come to think of it, he might have been flirting. 

Then there was a woman, the Head Archivist! I was so nervous to meet her, because that's a very serious position, so you'd imagine she'd be super strict and very academic, right? No! She's amazing too! A big afro that's  _ definitely  _ got a pen in it somewhere! She wore a light blue turtleneck- kinda cyan but not quite. You'd like her, Georgie, she reads the same book series as you! 

**Georgie**

I don't think I've heard you talk about people so much before. I wonder… 

**Jon**

Whatever you're thinking: no. 

**Georgie**

_ (teasing)  _ Does someone perhaps… 

**(A loud thud sounds, as well as a groan from Jon. It's safe to assume they've just smacked their head onto a table.)**

**Jon**

_ (embarrassed)  _ Nooooooo! 

**Georgie**

_ (trying not to laugh)  _ Oi! Mind the mic! Just because you're crushing doesn't mean you have to crush our equipment! 

**Jon**

_ (muffled)  _ You got that off of Amazon for £25.

**Georgie**

_ (miffed)  _ And that's £25 I'd rather not waste! If you don't mind, you're ruining the spooky atmosphere with your new love. The evidence: Mx. Lover! Where's the evidence?! 

**Jon**

Alright, alright! Just… let me gather my notes! Here! There's not much to go on, but looking at news from around the period this was posted, and after the Head Archivist- the book one with the nice jumper- got into police records- stop looking so shocked, Georgie- we found six other missing person reports from around the area. None of the cases have been solved! 

**Georgie**

What's more! In the reddit thread, another commenter linked a photo that her sister sent from the area, saying "Check out this drunk creeper lol". It's a picture of a darkened alleyway, with stairs leading up to it. We ran it through an image editor- brightened it up to see if we were missing anything- and there's a thin, long hand, beckoning out of the darkness. 

**Jon**

I, personally, think this man is making it up. No one talks like that! "I may have slightly overindulged"? Really? If he's as young as he says he is, there's no chance he'd use language like that. And he was drunk! Said it himself! It's not real. 

**Georgie**

You're grasping at straws! And  _ you  _ talk like that! I think it's true. The evidence for it is too concrete for you to discard. Don't give me that look: you're just trying to save your reputation after The Admiral crawled on your lap and you screamed thinking it was a ghost. 

**(Embarrassed stammering and excuses from Jon chime in, their voice is higher than normal.)**

**Georgie**

**(Continued)**

So, spooks and scaredy cats- or dogs, we don't judge- if you enjoyed this story, find us on Twitter [@N1ghtmare_Radio](https://mobile.twitter.com/N1ghtmare_Radio) and tweet us if you think Jon's crushes are adorable- I mean, if you think the story is real or fake! I'm Georgie Barker, they're Jonathan Sims, and we hope you sleep well tonight! 

**Jon and Georgie**

**(simultaneously)**

Bye!!! 


	2. Chapter 2

**(A fuzz of static and garbled voices plays as you tune into the show, eventually evening out.)**

**Jon**

Welcome, all you creeps and critters, to the Nightmare Radio! 

**Georgie**

Hello and thanks for tuning in again, or if you're new here, thanks for finding us! _(dramatically)_ We've been lost in an endless warping world- our voices our _only_ _comfort-_ before we were allowed on air again. 

**Jon**

Oh, stop being ridiculous! The Admiral was with us too! 

**Georgie**

Right! How could I forget  _ my  _ darling cat! So, Jon, what's the story today? 

**(The audio fizzes out around the word story but comes back quickly)**

**Jon**

Well, Georgie, it's not a tape recorded one today! We have a short, but thrilling, "true" tale from tumblr user "kiss-worm-wife-cowards".  _ (scoffs)  _ I'm not sure who this "worm wife" is; do you recon you'll give them a little kiss, Georgie? 

**Georgie**

Of course not, Jon! 

**(Jon does an over exaggerated "phew")**

**Georgie**

I'm not the type to kiss someone before a first date! I know she's married, but I can work around that! 

**Jon**

_ (sighing)  _ I wish I could say I didn't believe you. This story is a gory one so get ready for the gross stuff! Georgie, will you do the honours? 

**Georgie**

_ (talking slowly and adding a grumbling edge to her voice) _ Get comfy, settle down with whatever you think keeps you safe. Check your doors, your cupboards, your wardrobe; our story may bring the monsters out to play. Are you ready?

**(a pause full of dead air and static)**

**Georgie**

**(Continued)**

Then let's begin! 

**Jon**

**(Recorded)**

Market of Meat, story of Christine Galloway. 

Narrated by Jonathan Sims. 

"It isn't often I go to the market. Normally, the loud hubbub and the sheer amount of people makes me anxious so I avoid them all together. There's not even a market place in my town. On that dreadful day, though, my friend, Aria, wanted to go; she said there was a new haberdashery stall in a neighboring town. You never know what creeps are hanging around, and no one else was going with her, so I joined her. 

We wandered around, seeing all the store owners show off their items. I don't know how to explain it but their faces… they weren't right. All of them had the features a face should have, but their eyes were greedy, hungry; they looked at us like we were meat! I mean, objectifying women is one thing but this just wasn't the same. 

Aria hadn't noticed anything off, but I got rather paranoid at this point. I resolved to just keep my eyes down, but the cobbled sidewalks were all speckled brown and I didn't want to even imagine what  _ that  _ could be. 

Someone- a man, auburn hair and a wide build- walked into me, making me stumble a little. He grabbed my shoulder to hold me steady, and asked me if I was alright. His grip was crushing, like he was actively trying to dislocate my shoulder with his grip alone. At my flinch, he smiled, wide and ugly. Teeth bared, I saw his sharp as razor canines and blood red gums that looked rotten. I nodded my response and he unclenched his hand. 

I looked towards Aria. She wasn't there

Another stranger in the market was guiding her towards the butcher's. Quietly, I followed behind, praying that he was just a kind man, and that Aria had asked for directions. Sure, she hadn't said she needed to buy food, but Aria always buys things on a whim. They went into the shop, a small building with crumbling walls that  _ had  _ to be a violation of something. 

I peered through the window. It was cracked and grimy but I could just see inside. 

The man grabbed a cleaver, easily the cleanest thing in there, and sauntered towards Aria. Roughly, he snapped his hand tight around her neck and pushed her towards a table, cutting off any screams instantly. The  _ thing's  _ arm swung back, then down with the cleaver into Aria's mouth that lay open while she gasped for air. A trench-like cut opened across her cheeks, trickling blood into her mouth and down the remainder of her lower jaw. He swung down again and the bottom of her jaw was severed, again and the top half of her head hacked off from the rest of her body. 

I turned around and ran, unable to shut my eyes to the horror, but finally able to escape the image. 

As I sprinted back to where I thought I had parked the car, I glanced at the stalls. Teeth necklaces I thought were fakes, fertiliser for plants along with bone meal, combs and hair accessories in sickening pale white and yellowing colours, "cat" string violins and other string instruments, with "horse" hair bows. 

All of it. 

All of it could only be human."

Story ends. 

**Georgie**

_ (Irritated)  _ Well that didn't feel as good as the last story. 

**Jon**

I agree. The last one felt… fuller,  _ and _ more interesting to read. What are you thinking: real or fake? 

**Georgie**

_ (matter of factly)  _ That was fake, no doubt about it! Who describes their friend's death like that?! Jonny-

**Jon**

_ (annoyed)  _ Please never call me that again. 

**Georgie**

**(Continued)**

-if you ever feel the need to describe my murder from a town of cannibals  _ that _ graphically, please don't. I'd like to be remembered in my best moments. 

**Jon**

_ (teasing)  _ What best moments? That one time you walked into Starbucks, asked for four shots of espresso and a kiss from the barista? Or when you got drunk and emailed your university teacher that you couldn't come in the next day because you "were having a raging-

**Georgie**

_ (embarrassed)  _ WE ARE ON AIR! 

**Jon**

Anyway! I think it's fake as well: the name of the market the author was in and full names of the people in the story are never mentioned. Because of this, we can't do any follow up. And, judging by the language alone, they're not English. That amount of news to dig through, with no specific names or locations, would be nigh impossible to do any further research. 

**Georgie**

_ (mocking Jon's accent that's surprisingly not fake)  _ "Any further research" I am Jonathan Sims and I am a massive grump. My only friend is a cat who likes to show off his butt because humans could never live up to my "holier than thou" standards. 

**Jon**

_ (laughing)  _ Alright! Alright! We get it! Sorry for sounding professional. 

**Georgie**

You're co-hosting a radio show, about scary stories, at ten o'clock in the evening. What part of this sounded  _ professional _ to you? 

**(Jon grumbles about something to do with public image but it's not very clear)**

**Jon**

_ (defensive)  _ Never mind. 

**Georgie**

Also, mate, listen, if you're going to write about cannibals, look up what happens to your body when you do. I want to hear some good old  _ mad cow disease _ level stuff OK! Rotting flesh on living bodies! Not vampire-esce sharp teeth and red gums. 0/10, severely disappointed. 

**Jon**

You know way too much about that than you should. 

That's it, spooks and scaredy cats! The story is told.  _ (singing)  _ no happy ever after for a tale so old~ 

**Georgie**

_ (threatening but in a sibling way)  _ If you start yelling Mechanisms lines, I am going to throttle you. 

**Jon**

**(Continued)**

If you enjoyed this story, find us on Twitter @N1ghtmare_Radio and tweet us if you want to hear more of Georgie's "best moments"- sorry, if you think the story is real or fake! I'm Jon Sims, she's Georgie Barker, and we hope you sleep well tonight!

**Jon and Georgie**

**(simultaneously)**

Bye! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so do you love it? loathe it? was the gore so good you felt it too (I get really empathetic and feel others pain sometimes, this chapter hurt me more than it hurt you)? leave a comment telling me what you think! I feed off of your negetive emotions but I wasn't supposed to tell you that.


	3. Chapter 3

**(The radio splutters out static as you tune into the right frequency. You're just in time for the show)**

**Georgie**

Welcome, all you creeps and critters, to The Nightmare Radio! Full of freaky fallacies and paragraphs that'll pull out your inner paranoia. What monster shall you encounter tonight, our  _ lovely  _ audience? 

**Jon**

The one that wakes them up at seven in the morning, because that's the- 

**(the audio fizzles out around a word. it's probably "host")**

**Jon**

**(Continued)**

-for this show. 

**Georgie**

_ (defensive)  _ I had a bad dream and I was scared for your safety, so sorry for calling you- at a perfectly normal time, by the way- because I was worried! 

**Jon**

Georgie, it's OK! I'm teasing, it's fine! Even if I was annoyed at first, I forgive you. 

It was probably better for me anyway; I may have been procrastinating on recording this story and if I'd slept in, we wouldn't have anything to tell. 

**Georgie**

_ Jon _ ! I can't believe you would do that! Such a crime! 

**Jon**

_ (agreeing)  _ Yes, I'm a criminal. A dreadful person who has committed illegal actions a plenty. No region of England is safe from my tyrannical clutches. 

**Georgie**

Too right! You're ridiculous! "Georgie, I brought the cheaper cat food for The Admiral!", you're heinous, Mx. Sims. A downright hazard to society. 

**Jon**

_ (defensive)  _ The Admiral was getting fat! You keep overfeeding him! 

**Georgie**

_ (offended)  _ Excuse me? Firstly, he's not fat-

**Jon**

I couldn't pick him up this morning. 

**Georgie**

**(Continued)**

That's because you're a twink. The Admiral is  _ not _ fat, he's huggable and warm. It's mostly fur anyway. Secondly, I'm not the one who feeds him treats every time they see him, am I, Jon? 

**Jon**

HIS  _ EYES _ , GEORGIE! He looks so sad, I can't just leave him so miserable! 

**Georgie**

_ (Laughing)  _ This is why The Admiral doesn't live with you. You're such an easy target for peer pressure! It's amazing you even got through University without any good drunk stories. 

**Jon**

_ (proudly)  _ That's because I had two pints of beer while they drunk themselves into a stupor, then bought Coca-Cola that I said was spiked with rum. Gullible fools. 

**Georgie**

And that's another tally to the crime board, you manipulative crook. Do you know what  _ fun _ is? 

**Jon**

Not praying to a toilet bowl the second I get back to student residence. 

**Georgie**

You may have a point. 

**Jon**

Alright! Enough of that, before the audience thinks we're alcoholics. Georgie, what's the-

**(The audio once again becomes static around the word "story". This is seriously becoming a problem)**

**Georgie**

It's another that recorded properly, without a cassette tape, thank our lucky stars! A ship in a sudden storm, hearing nothing but sweet voices as their mates are thrown overboard, will haunt today's show! Will the rough waves toss you out of your comfort zone? Who knows? 

**Jon**

_ (in a darker tone, and much slower than they previously had spoken) _ So get comfy, settle down with whatever you think keeps you safe. Check your doors, your cupboards, your wardrobe; our story may bring the monsters out to play. Are you ready?

**(a pause full of dead air and soft static the peaks and falls like waves)**

**Jon**

**(Continued)**

Then let's begin! 

**Melanie King**

**(Recorded)**

_ (Furious)  _ Georgie, what the hell! 

**Georgie**

**(Recorded)**

_ (in a rushed tone)  _ Melanie! Melanie, calm down. What's wrong? 

**Melanie**

**(Recorded)**

Oh, yeah, like you don't know! That  _ bloody _ sound engineer! 

**Georgie**

**(Recorded)**

_ (Confused)  _ Sarah? What's she got to do with anything? 

**Melanie**

**(Recorded)**

She! She just! She's wrong, Georgie! What the- where did you even find her?! I can't even-

**Georgie**

**(Recorded)**

Melanie, I can't understand what you're saying. Just  _ tell me your story.  _

**Melanie**

**(Recorded)**

OK… OK, I can do that. 

**Georgie**

**(Recorded)**

_ Skintight, story of Melanie King.  _

_ Narrated by Melanie King.  _

**Melanie**

**(Recorded)**

We’d been angling to film at the abandoned Cambridge military hospital for months. The plan was pretty standard stuff - we head to the location after dark, we explore a bit, we set up the equipment, and then, of course, we spend some time afterwards analysing the data… 

**(Melanie tells the story of her time working with Sarah Baldwin to Georgie)**

**Georgie**

**(Recorded)**

_ The tale is told.  _

**Georgie**

_ (panicking)  _ Jon, that's  _ not _ what you recorded. 

**Jon**

_ (trying to stay calm)  _ I know, Georgie.

**Georgie**

I didn't even record that conversation! I wasn't in the studio, I didn't have any mics on me! 

**Jon**

I know you didn't, Georgie. I- it should have been the right file, I selected it, the file is titled "siren's call" and it should have been that one. I don't understand how this happened. 

**Georgie**

_ (choked)  _ Melanie's going to kill us. That was her. That was her words and we just put them on air. Why was that even a file? Why did it get aired? I thought we had everything checked out. Jon, what are we going to do? 

**Jon**

We'll sort it out. No running away from our problems now. 

Would you like to step out? I can continue the rest of the show tonight. 

**Georgie**

Yeah… Yeah, I'd like to take a break, if you don't mind. 

**Jon**

Okay. Go home, Georgie. If you can, call Melanie. If not, eat something then go to sleep. Everything  _ will _ be fine. 

**(the door swings open, then clicks shut softly. Jon sighs, you hear the sound of scratching skin, and then they start to talk again)**

**Jon**

_ (exhausted)  _ I uh- I don't have Georgie's account on if this is real, but I think it is. While I've never met Melanie King, I know Georgie holds her dearly and I have my doubts on if she would dare lie to Georgie. 

**(A long pause, slightly uncomfortable.)**

**Jon**

**(Continued)**

Hold on, It can't be... 

Sarah Baldwin is one of the people who was taken on Old Fishmarket Close, by the Angler Fish! I've got to tell Georgie! 

**(Jon is heard pushing their chair back and moving towards the door.)**

Oh! Almost forgot!

_(rushed)_ That's it, spooks and scaredy cats! Our show's over for tonight! If you enjoyed this story, find us on Twitter @N1ghtmare_Radio and tweet us if you think the story is real or fake! I'm Jon Sims, she's Georgie Barker, and we hope you sleep well tonight!

**Jon**

**(Alone)**

Bye! 


	4. Chapter 4

**(The radio doesn't need tuning anymore; it's always on the same frequency. At 10pm sharp, you turn on the radio and the familiar voices begin)**

**Jon**

Welcome, all you creeps and critters, to The Nightmare Radio: crammed full of conspiracies to capitalise your fright and sentences to scare your very soul! As well as a few tidbits from Georgie and myself. 

**Georgie**

A few? Jon, our derailed commentary is the majority of the show's running time. If anyone's still here, it's for us. 

**Jon**

Nope. Just me. Why would anyone want to listen to _you_ whine all day over your new cru-mmfp

**(Jon's teasing sentence is cut off abruptly, and a small smack implies Georgie has shoved her hand over their face)**

**Georgie**

Keep talking like that and I'll be the only one on air, and you'll only be remembered by a missing persons report. 

**(Jon makes a muffled sound that's similar to an "oh really" in tone but who's to say?)**

**Georgie**

_(Cheerily with an air of customer service)_ Anyway! Soon we might have a new ho- (can't say that, it's a static word) person joining us on the radio! We- and by that I mean "I" because Jon can't persuade anyone to save their life- asked a darling ghost hunter with a mean streak a mile wide, someone who's already _helped_ us out before; you guessed it, Melanie King is joining us on the radio! 

**Jon**

_(half hearted)_ and I will be the world's biggest third wheel. How did you even get Melanie to agree? 

**Georgie**

Melanie actually asked if _she_ could join us. Isn't that so… 

**Jon**

Terrible? 

**Georgie**

_(Starstruck)_ Amazing!!! 

**Jon**

See, at least I don't invite people from The Magnus Institute to our show. And you know how much I love them! I know The Head Archivist definitely has truer sto- 

**(Jon sighs, but does not say the rest of the word "story", they've learnt not to use it anymore)**

**Jon**

**(Continued)**

-Tales than a ghost hunter on YouTube. 

**Georgie**

_(teasing)_ you're just upset that Sasha said no to you. 

**Jon**

_(stammering)_ I- I didn't… I didn't exactly kind of… 

**Georgie**

You didn't ask, did you? You, young being of spite, are an anxious wreck. 

**Jon**

_(quietly)_ Can't get rejected if you don't ask… Also we're the same age! 

**Georgie**

I thought you were talking to your therapist about being more assertive and working through your RSD?

**Jon**

I'm trying to find another person at the moment… It didn't quite work out. 

**Georgie**

As long as you're trying. You're doing a good job.

Wow, we got off track. What have you got for us this time, best narrator in the universe? 

**Jon**

It's something I was given by the _esteemed_ Elias Bouchard himself, right from the archives. I'm not sure why he gave it to me, or why he misgendered me: I was wearing a skirt and had my pronoun badge on too! 

**Georgie**

You should stop talking about him now before I leave you alone again to deck the man. I already have… _choice_ words I'd like him to hear. Honestly I'd take out his eyes first, that leering creep! I'll wrangle his bloody eyes out of his-

**Jon**

_(Butting in before Georgie plans murder)_ Well this one will drive you madder than Bram Stoker's awful writing, with endless mirrors showing the wrong reflexion, warped faces of those you thought you knew, and your every sense fighting to feel right. And it's a tape one! How are we feeling about this one? 

**Georgie**

I don't think there's anything more maddening than when you leave an empty toilet roll next to the bin but not in it, but I guess I'll wait and see. 

**(Static swells to the point where the common phrase is almost inaudible)**

**Georgie**

**(Continued)**

_(talking slowly and adding a grumbling edge to her voice)_ Get comfy, settle down with whatever you think keeps you safe. Check your doors, your cupboards, your wardrobe; our story may bring the monsters out to play. Are you ready?

**(a pause full of dead air and the high pitched squeal of static like an old whistling kettle but fuzzy in a way it shouldn't be)**

**Georgie**

**(Continued)**

Then let's begin! 

**Jon**

**(Recorded)**

_Looking Glass, story of Jaiya Hashemi_

_Narrated by Jonathan Sims._

I'm not crazy. I think I feel like I need to tell you that. I wasn't crazy when I came out, and I'm not crazy now! Just… shaky. Am I shaking or is it just my hands dancing in my vision. Maybe it's my eyes, shaking in my skull like they've been tased. I don't think I know anymore. 

It was a completely normal day. Ha! "Normal". What is normal to the world when nothing in the world _is_ normal. My point is, the day was similar to how all my other previous days were. My coffee tasted the same as it had yesterday; my clothes felt the same softness as they had when I last wore them; each step I took was even- and by that I mean my legs felt the same length still. 

**(Jon's voice gets higher, slightly lighter and it quivers in their throat.)**

I was walking to work then, the weather was pleasant as it had rained recently but the sun was shining. Just like petrichor through the air, I wandered through the streets randomly, following my nose and letting my feet lead me wherever, somewhere, or nowhere. 

**(The voice that had started as Jon's paused. When the voice comes back, it is a woman's, with a thick, twangy accent that could only be from Stevenage, dropping the T's and flattening the vowels. It was slightly pitchy at times, but all together very even. A pretty voice, all things considered, but definitely not theirs.)**

_Narrated by Jaiya Hashemi_

_Story continues._

The old puddles on the ground muddled my mind as I stared at the floor. The cobbles seemed to rise and fall like that scene from Harry Potter in Diagon Alley, or maybe it wasn't. I can't tell you, I just know they moved. And if I was moving not the cobblestones which covered the pavement, then I guess I don't know that they moved. 

A mirror appeared on one of the walls, I think it was a wall, I hope it was a wall. The frame was golden, then it was a dull wood, then it was a children's plastic hand mirror. 

Inside it was my friend's face. Inside it was _not_ my friend's face. 

Her skin was pale, no- darker than the blackest night, no- it was warm like… like something, I don't know! It stretched and pulled, her eyelids pulling away from molten eyes that were bluish-brownish-greenish and everything in between. Her mouth warped as she screamed. 

I moved my head away but I couldn't look away. The view from that mirror merged in my mind with the image of my friend, and reflected on every pit of water on the floor, every mirror on these… I wish I could say walls but no noun has meaning to these. it's just glass but it's not glass but it reflects like any glass does. I want to stop walking, but what even is stopping anymore when the world moves you forward like a treadmill? I swayed- or the world swayed- then I walked tilted down-or-up the reflective-dull street. 

I can't make it make sense! It won't make sense and it won't work on this damned page! 

My nose tasted the air, then I sharply inhaled to try to smell it again. My skin heard my irregular footsteps (heavy, light, light, heavy, and on, and on) as my legs flopped along the floor to mock walking. My eyes tasted the food I ate earlier that I could feel on my tongue as it came up. I could feel my own organs squishing. I don't even know what my ears were doing but it definitely wasn't hearing. 

Everything was mirrors, of not me, of not my friends, of not my family, of not everyone. All of them screamed and slapped their hands against the surfaces. Nothing could ever describe this. I would say it was hell, but hell has no innocents. 

I must have blacked out, collapsed in some way, because I woke in a not hospital, with not blood on my face from my tasting nose. Everything was not what it was and it's not what it will ever be again. 

I've covered every mirror in my house now. Now only a smiling man watches me, and he does not scream. 

_The tale is told._

**Georgie**

Was that the tape or was that _her_ voice, Jon? 

**Jon**

_(Swallowing)_ That was her voice. 

**Georgie**

You… You realise how messed up this is, don't you? That's incredibly messed up. Not only did you just sound like a soprano-

**Jon**

_(Almost angry)_ You're making jokes at _this?_

**Georgie**

But that's someone else's voice. We need to find her, what if you've taken it from her?! 

**Jon**

What? Like you took Melanie's?

**(Once again, static fizzes in)**

**Jon**

**(Continued)**

Right from her lips? I felt it, Georgie! I know how she felt when you took it from her! 

**Georgie**

_(anguished)_ Jon! Stop! I know what I did and I said I was sorry! 

**Jon**

Oh _you're_ sorry? That's nice! Let's all kiss and make up and stop ripping things out of other pe-

**(Jon's voice cuts off, leaving with a hoarse breath of air)**

**Georgie**

_(Panicking)_ Oh no. No no no no, what do I do?! 

**(The show ends abruptly.)**

**No one**

Bye! 


	5. Chapter 5

**(Time doesn't really make sense anymore. All you know is the creeping feeling that twitches against the top layer of your skin as 10pm arrives, and the sound of your radio turning on.)**

**Georgie**

Welcome, all you creeps and critters, to The Nightmare Radio! Time to let your mind be pulled away and lost in our tales. 

We've been looking over the recordings of our time on air, and realised that static has become a prevailing issue, and we're using a tape recorder today! It's a lot of hassle, but for our  _ terrific _ audience, it's worth it!

Jon's gone out today- something about them "doing extra research" which we all know means seeing the people in the Magnus Institute's archives- so I stole the Head Archivist: Sasha!

**(Georgie loudly claps and cheers, definitely enjoying having a different host with her)**

**Sasha**

Hello! It's so weird being on your show, I've listened to the second show, but didn't really have time after that; you two are amazing. It's nice being a part of that.

**Georgie**

_ (Teasing)  _ Well you've certainly been mentioned enough to be a part of it. I'd like to say Jon is just happy about their new friends but-

**Sasha**

_ (Confused)  _ they? I thought Jon used he/him?

**(There's a short pause and then Georgie sighs)**

**Georgie**

They didn't tell you, did they?

**Sasha**

Nope  _ (she pops the p at the end) _

**Georgie**

That idiot will be the death of me.

Today's story is a ghoulish tale about sightings of a spirit upon a stair, linked to the famous poem, Antigonish. 

**Sasha**

Sorry, can I take a picture of us together first? Just before we start the story. I've got a Polaroid camera that I'm pretty proud of and it's always nice to keep a record of new friends. Is that alright with you?

**Georgie**

_ (Excited)  _ Oh nice, a Polaroid! That sounds awesome, sure! You know, I didn't take you to be the type.

**Sasha**

Well, I just think they're pretty neat. Can you pull your chair a little closer? Thanks! Say cheese!

**(Georgie does not say cheese, like a killjoy. A click comes from the camera and then some loud whirring sounds as the picture is printed)**

**Georgie**

_ (Sounding far off and daunting)  _ Get comfy, settle down with whatever you think keeps you safe. Check your doors, your cupboards, your wardrobe; our story may bring the monsters out to play. Are you ready?

**(Dead air crackles as the tape recorder whorls away)**

Then let's begin.

**Jon**

**(Recorded)**

Upon the Stair, a tale by an unknown figure.

Narrated by...

**(Jon's voice shifts from its usual deepness to… something. The voice dips and rises in pitch at irregular intervals, sounding feminine, then masculine, then sounding like nothing at all)**

" _ Thank you for giving me the opportunity to put my words to you, and apologies for any problems that… may arise from this conversation. I will try to restrain it. _

_ Are you familiar with the work of the poet William Hughes Mearns? _ "

**(The story of someone continues. When Jon finishes, their voice becomes their own again, sounding like someone tuning an instrument, plucking the wrong note but getting closer every time)**

**Jon**

**(Recorded)**

_ The tale is told. _

**Sasha**

_ (Breaths in, sounding satisfied and then disgusted with herself)  _ I- what  _ was _ that?

**Georgie**

A good story. That one's definitely a true one.

**Sasha**

I don't doubt you but that was messed up. I've heard Jon talk, he-  _ they  _ don't sound like that. And  _ you!  _ You're way too normal about this!

**Georgie**

Yeah, well, we had a few arguments over it and now we're both taking it in stride, what of it?

**Sasha**

Taking it in stride? Both? I don't understand? **What** **_are_** **you?**

**(Georgie laughs at this, but her laugh twists, slowly becoming someone else's.)**

**Sasha?**

The better question is who are _you,_ Sasha James? 

Oh. I've never done this before! I don't understand why Jon doesn't like it,  _ I _ think it's rather fun! Quick, Sasha!  **Tell me** something you would say!

**Sasha**

Georgie! Stop!

**Georgie**

Fine. I've had my fun. Though it would be great for impressions. Hey! Maybe I could do stand up comedy?

**Sasha**

_ (Shocked)  _ you're so… calm about this?  **How** ?

**Georgie**

Jon and I did a lot of talking about it. We worked everything out that we could, and I guess we're happy as we are. Hosts. Hosts who tell stories. Like you're the Archivist who reads statements. We're the same really. Well… We're definitely Hosts because that used to be a static word, I don't know about you. That one's really just a guess.

**Sasha**

_ (Shocked _ )Can you feel it? The watching, I mean. It's not just me?

**Georgie**

No, that one's just you. Although, Jon does say they feel like they're being stared at when they go to your institute. Maybe that's just a Magnus thing.

**Sasha**

Ha! If Jimmy Magma could watch anyone, anywhere, I'll confess how I feel to the others.

**Georgie**

_ Oh?  _ Is that gossip I hear with the basement dwellers? 

**Sasha**

_ (Joking)  _ yes it is my absolute hatred of staplers. Can't stand those things. Staplers ate my second cousin. It was like the homophobic vase all over again.

**Georgie**

_ (Laughing)  _ the  _ what? _

**Sasha**

In a statement I recorded, there was a vase that stole items that belonged to a person and erased all memory of those items for other people. Eventually it erased the man's husband. We found his marriage documents and it looked like he was married to no one.

**Georgie**

Damn. That's another level of homophobia. Speaking of which, your boss! How do you feel about murder?

**Sasha**

Not strong enough to talk about it on radio, honestly, Georgie, are you trying to get caught?

**Georgie**

Of course! How foolish of me. I'm sure you know all about how not to get caught. Is that from personal experience or a statement?

**Sasha**

Actually, it's from Martin.

**Georgie**

Is Martin the tea person or the Hawaiian shirt person?

**Sasha**

Tea person. He's lovely. And very happy when arson is mentioned. Martin gave me a jumper once and I was drowning in it. Imagine fluffy wool, thick and warm, all over you. It went down to my knees: it was great!

**Georgie**

So if Jon is shorter than you… do you think they could just curl up inside this jumper?

**Sasha**

Sure, if they can snatch it off me. Finders keepers.

**Georgie**

They can and will, I promi- hold on. I just got a text. "Come and get your Host"

**Sasha**

I'm guessing that's not how Jon normally talks.

**Georgie**

No. They're at the archives, aren't they?

**Sasha**

Shit.

**Georgie**

That's it, spooks and scaredy cats! Our show's over for tonight! If you hate the homophobic vase- I mean enjoyed this story, find us on Twitter @N1ghtmare_Radio and tweet us if you think the story is real or fake! I'm Georgie Barker, she's Sasha James, and we hope you sleep well tonight!

**Sasha and Georgie**

**(Simultaneously)**

Bye! 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working title for this was global worming, no I don't take criticism.  
> This chapter isn't beta-ed due to reasons, but my awesome beta Paige has been helping me with all my past chapters and she deserves EVERYTHING!!!! So thank you Paige for your help so far, and I hope this chapter lives up to your standards.  
> Please note: there is description of injury, slight misgendering, panicking but not descriptive, and canon typical worms.
> 
> Please enjoy.

**(It's 11pm. The radio shouldn't still be playing, but it clearly is. The Nightmare Radio should have ended for the night, but the show goes on.)**

**Jon**

_ (Panicking)  _ Martin, you're definitely sure we're safe in here?

**Martin**

For the last time, Jon, yes. It's safe. This room has climate control… stuff so the documents are well kept. Everything is sealed off. Tim, how are you doing?

**Tim**

Well I got the worm out of my leg, so that's a plus. 

Say, you had the corkscrew: any chance you've got plasters or, y'know, a whole first aid kit because this thing turned my leg into one of those worm eaten tree trunks and there might be a bit of blood.

**(There's a small rustle then a tiny cheer)**

**Jon**

Pokémon or cats?

**Tim**

_ (Dumbfounded)  _ Why do you have random plasters on you?

**Martin**

Are we not going to talk about how they're themed plasters? Or how they're clearly too small?

**Tim**

No. No, we're not.

**Jon**

In the grand scheme of things, me having cat plasters is a very normal thing. Why, Martin? Are you jealous?

**Martin**

_ (Snapping) _ I don't know. Give me a few minutes to boil some tea, get eaten by worms, and have some biscuits, then maybe I'll get back to you.

**Tim**

_ (Surprised)  _ wow Martin. You don't deal with stress well. I think you're worse than Jon.

**Jon**

I'm just thinking about how this is the worst date I've ever been on and ignoring the current situation while the adrenaline courses through my veins making me numb to everything.

**Tim**

Awww! You thought this was a date!

**Martin**

I think you focused on the wrong part of his sentence, Tim.

**(There's a quiet murmur from Jon)**

**Martin**

**(Continued)**

Pardon, Jon?

**Jon**

_ (Stammering)  _ I just thought- seeing as we might be in here a while- I just felt like I had to tell you that- well it's not that big a deal, and if you don't want to really talk to me after this, that's fine but I, uh…

**Jon**

**(Continued)**

_ (Shouting slightly and ranting)  _ I'm non-binary! I use they/them pronouns and I'm non-binary and I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner, I was scared and I didn't know if you would accept me, or if you would hate me, and I kept wondering what if you didn't-

**Tim**

Jon. Calm down. It's fine. Right Martin?

**Martin**

Yeah. It's okay, Jon. No one hates you, no one is going to leave you; everything is okay. Thank you for telling us.

**Jon**

Are you sure it's okay? I know it's not widely accepted. If you don't agree with it, you can keep using he/him, I won't mi-

**(There's a quick ruffle of clothes and a slight 'oomf' from Jon)**

**Tim**

Jon. Shush. We're not arseholes. If you didn't mind he/him, you probably wouldn't have said anything. I've known you for seven months now and I know that's how you work. Calm down. You're fine. You're our friend and if anyone has a problem with you, I will fight them. Is that clea-

**Jon**

Tim, shut up.

**Martin**

Jon, he's trying to comfort you.

**Jon**

_ (Urgently) _ no, trust me and shut up…

Do you hear that?

**Martin**

_ (Worried)  _ Jon, are you sure you're okay?

**(Jon's voice becomes rougher, gritty and warbled like someone who's just choked (on FOOD GOD DAMNIT FOOD). The voice is feminine, and deeper than Sasha and Georgie's. The vowels are drawn out, elongated, as Jon's mouth shapes over them)**

**Jane Prentiss?**

Do you hear them sing?

**Tim**

Jon. What the fuck?

**Jane?**

I'm going outside.

**Martin**

Sit back down, we need to talk about this. Do not go outside. You'll be killed.

**Tim**

I'm with Martin: sit down. You need to explain what's going on.

_ (Shouting)  _ Get back here!

**(A door swings open and slams shut.)**

**Jane Prentiss**

Hello, Host.

**(Jon coughs a few times before speaking)**

**Jon**

Hi. Who are you?

**Jane**

You already know who I am. The assistants have told you, silly Host.

**Jon**

They have, but I'd like to hear from you before it gets ripped out... If you don't mind.

**Jane**

I think I  _ do  _ mind.

**Jon**

_ (Snarking _ ) That's not my problem.

**Jane**

_ (Sneering)  _ I am Jane Prentiss, but you may call me Jane. I'm feeling lenient.

**Jon**

I am Jonathan Sims, but I go by Jon, and I would like to hear your story… _ (added on) _ please.

**Jane**

My love is not yours to feed off of.

**Jon**

_ (Jon barks a laugh) Love _ ? Who are you kidding, Jane? Can't you see what these worms have done to you?

**Jane**

_ (Hurt) _ Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about! I  _ need _ them! They make me better- my home who sings to  _ me _ ! How funny: I thought all you Eye people knew everything.

**Jon**

"Eye people"? I don't understand.

**(A large bang sounds as a door opens. The sound of fire extinguishers pierces the air)**

**Jon**

**(Continued)**

_ (Happily) _ Georgie!

**Georgie**

Jon when I asked you to be a narrator, I did  _ not _ mean your  _ own _ narrator. Now step out of the circle of worms and away from the Saint like lady.

**Jane**

Saint like?

**Jon**

No please don't do this now.

**Georgie**

You're hole-y.

**Jon**

Worms, take me now.

**Jane**

That can be arranged. How do you feel about singing?

**Jon**

Sorry, Jane, I'm already trying to date other people and I can't afford a wriggly relationship at the moment. 

_(Panicked)_ Georgie, if you could use that fire extinguisher any time now that would be nice- I really hate talking to people.

**Georgie**

On it!

**(Another loud spurt of hissing gas erupts, along with screams from multiple mouths.)**

**Jon**

Really,  _ really  _ don't want to do this but…  **tell me your story** .

**Jane**

No! No I don't want to! Stop it, I don't want to tell you!

**Jon**

I hope you're not squeamish, dear audience, because this tale will worm its way into your mind and create a nest out of it- and not the good, bird kind.

**Jane**

Stop it! Stop it now! You're hurting me, Jon!

**Georgie**

So get comfy, settle down with whatever you think keeps you safe. Check your doors, your cupboards, your wardrobe; our story may bring the monsters out to play. Are you ready?

**(The recorded static crawls through the air and to your ears like a song.)**

Then let's begin.

**Jon**

Hive, story of Jane Prentiss

Narrated by Jane Prentiss.

**Jane**

_ I itch all the time. Deep beneath my skin, where the bone sits, enshrined in flesh, I feel it. Something, not moving but that wants to move. Wants to be free. It itches, and I don’t think I want it. I don’t know what to do... _


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aren't you lot lucky today? a nice longer chapter as an apology for the wait. i hope you're all ready because its a full story today!!! i had lots of fun writing this one, and i hope you'll enjoy. please remember to read the story introductions because they do hold content warnings as a last minute back out. 
> 
> thank you again to my lovely beta Paige! you're an absolute saint!
> 
> content warnings: (not in order)  
> descriptions of bullet like pain in the arm, leg, and torso  
> gore  
> blood dipping and other descriptions
> 
> stay safe!

**(It's 10pm. Your mind is no longer needed to fulfil the quota for this time, as your hand mechanically moves to turn on the radio. Isn't muscle memory such a clever thing?)**

**Jon**

Melanie, I suppose you should do the honours. 

**Melanie**

_ (Excited)  _ No way! You're really letting me say it?

**Jon**

Yes. Now could you  _ please _ say the introduction.

**Melanie**

Right, right, yes, of course.  _ (whispered)  _ Georgie never let me do this.  _ (Melanie takes a deep breath in, then swiftly exhales) _

Welcome, all you creeps and critters, to The Nightmare Radio! A collection of catastrophic stories to make your skin crawl!

Did I do it right?

**Jon**

Perfectly. And to all you poor people still listening, we have reached our ten month mark! Because I was in quarantine (I'll go over that in a bit) you had to listen to Georgie and this  _ menace  _ with me right now-

**Melanie**

I'll have you know I am more than a simple menace!

**Jon**

Fine, this scum of the earth, for the last two weeks. As punishment for my crimes, because we all know I'm a criminal-

**Melanie**

Hah! Hardly! You walked into a shop, and then almost cried when you walked out without buying anything!

**Jon**

I felt bad, okay? You're just heartless.

**Melanie**

You know what they say about short people, they're closer to hell.

**Jon**

Hold on, you're taller than me!

**Melanie**

Yeah, you're in one of the lower levels. I'm thinking treachery for you, seeing as you betrayed us by leaving me and Georgie to fend for ourselves!

**Jon**

The only treacherous one here is The Admiral for sitting on your lap and not mine.

**Melanie**

_ (Faking compassion)  _ Awwww! Is someone upset that The Admiral clearly likes me more than his ren?

**Jon**

_ (Stiffly)  _ No, because there's nothing to  _ be _ upset about.

**Melanie**

Uh huh. Sure. Ok Swiss cheese, tell us your recap of Squirmy Scarlett.

**Jon**

Well first of all, her name is…  _ (unsettled) _ was Jane. She was Jane Prentiss.

At around half past 10 pm, while Georgie was running the show with Sasha as a special guest, I was at the Magnus Archives with Tim and Martin. 

We were taking jokey pictures in one of the rooms, and Tim leaned against the wall for a pose. The wall collapses, silvery worms fly out everywhere, I drop my phone, which I was taking the photos on, because there was a spider on my hand.

**Melanie**

That is  _ so  _ typical of you.

**Jon**

_ Thanks _ . It's childhood trauma.

Continuing on:

We run to document storage where Martin has been sleeping for a while due to an infestation at his flat and corkscrew the worm out of Tim's leg.

**Melanie**

How could you say that so casually? You literally have worm tracks all over your skin!

**Jon**

I  _ did  _ have two weeks to deal with it. Also Sasha asked us what happened already, so you're getting the short version.

**Melanie**

Short version? My good tiz, don't kid yourself.

**Jon**

Ok! Ok! I'm just finishing.

_ (Quickly.)  _ I hear Jane's voice, mimic her, go outside, she makes a path for me so we end up standing in a circle of worms, we have a nice chat, Georgie comes in with a fire extinguisher and kills most of the worms, I force the story out of Prentiss, she gets mad, I get swarmed with worms while Georgie runs upstairs to avoid them and call… whoever. I think she still had Jordan's number from uni.

Is that short enough for you?

**Melanie**

_ (Dumbstruck)  _ I have… so many questions.

**Jon**

Yeah that happens. If it helps: I also don't understand what's going on. Georgie _sprayed_ a lot of CO2, and I _inhaled_ a lot of CO2, so I have very fuzzy memories. Shall we get on with the story?

**Melanie**

Oh. Uhhh yeah! Let's do this!

A night on the Pier of Ilfracombe, with stormy winds and swishing waves, and a ghoulish girl standing out in the rain. If pain, blood or gore makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip today's broadcast. It's The Nightmare Radio, not The Trigger Radio. Stay safe.

**Jon**

Thank you Mels.

**Melanie**

_ (Sternly)  _ Melanie _.  _

**Jon**

Alright!! Thanks, Melanie, now… Get comfy, settle down with whatever you think keeps you safe. Check your doors, your cupboards, your wardrobe; our story may bring the monsters out to play. Are you ready?

**(The tape blares static)**

Then let's begin.

**Jon**

**(Recorded)**

Verity, story of Julian Carlson.

Narrated by Jonathan Sims.

I don't go down by the pier often, it's more of a tourist attraction or a "here's a fun day out with the kids" kind of place. It's not like I have an interest in crabbing off the edge either. The bait for that reeks: no thanks. Besides, all of the people around and the wonky wooden planks, sodden with… whatever's there, I guess, makes it hard for me to walk with my crutches. 

Despite all of this, I found myself on the pier late on a Thursday night. The conditions were terrible, wind pulling my jacket tight to one side of my body, yanking it away from the other, but still getting right down to my bones. The rain had already drenched my hair long ago, coming down in thick pellets and claiming all the surfaces with its cold, dark mark. How long until I had more water coating my skin than air?

The lamps lining the pier were dimmer than normal, I'm almost sure, giving a pale golden glow to everything, but only enough to get a silhouette: a shape in the darkness, featureless and glowing from behind like a deity. 

In the distance, a woman stood, the left side of her face towards me as she stared beyond.

She was rather beautiful, I noticed as I walked slowly towards her, with a clear face and sorrowful eyes. Her long hair, brown, and prettily plaited behind her back. Her lips were full, her nose broad, and her jaw strong. She was very beautiful. It didn't take long for me to realise she was pregnant, and in the later weeks too, but I never said anything.

Pattering rain droplets drowned out a lot of the surrounding noise, but her lips swiftly moving told me she was talking, whether whispering or shouting, I couldn't tell. The wind was howling. Why was I even out here? I tapped the lady twice on the shoulder, ready to ask what she was doing out her- as if I wasn't a massive hypocrite.

She turned towards me and I nearly screamed.

Breath caught in my cold lungs, I stared at the half of her face that had no skin. Her eye was very close to tipping out of her socket, the bones constructing her cranium a pasty yellow under the lamp's illumination. As she continued to sing- it was definitely singing now, about rabbits, running rabbits- the jaw clacked to a twisted rhythm. 

String-like muscle protruded, taut in her arm and down her neck. Her neck where her windpipe shifts with every rattling inhale she makes. Her white dress- low cut and sleeveless, not that I'm trying to sexualise a walking corpse, or a pregnant woman, I'm a man with morals- was stained a dark burgundy from the blood dripping and squelching from the opened blood vessels widening when the lady moves.

Twitching, she raises her hand, the shoulder degloved but luckily remaining skinned from the forearm down, covered in rivers of still flowing, still dripping like a metronome, blood. She raises her hand, palm up, and she looks at me. I take her hand. 

And I hear her singing, finally.

_ Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run _

_ Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run _

_ Bang, _

I feel a jolt in my shoulder that feels numb, then it  _ burns.  _ I quickly pull my arm out of my crutch to cradle the other.

_ Bang, _

Another blast of pain in my leg, through my Achilles tendon. I stumble to the slippery decking, my ear against the boards, hearing the angry waves beneath me.

_ Bang, _

Yet more pain in my side; I pull in a sob as I'm met with the splashes of the lady's blood that ricochet off of the puddles.

_ Bang, goes the farmers gun, _

_ So run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run. _

_ (Jon groans, disgusted)  _ the tale is told

**Jon**

Alright then. Melanie, what are your thoughts on this. Real or fake? Before I disprove all of them, obviously.

**Melanie**

Ha! Aren't you funny! 

I think it's true. We have a clear location, Ilfracombe Pier, a person who does, in fact, live in Devon (sorry mate, privacy is a lie, internet and all that. By the way, those are some  _ very _ nice pictures, try doing some professional photography), and a ghost. I mean, come on, you can't disprove ghosts!

**Jon**

You can't prove them either.

**Melanie**

Professional ghost hunter here, yeah I can!

**Jon**

That reminds me! Melanie, are we getting any stories from you soon?

**Melanie**

Wouldn't you like to know?

**Jon**

Yes..? That's why I'm asking.

**Melanie**

_ (Sarcastically)  _ Well since you're so insistent I'll tell you-

**Jon**

Under no circumstances did I insist.

**Melanie**

I received a tip off about a haunted place in a recycling yard. Rumor has it that a train carriage was discarded there ages ago that was never scrapped. If you try to go near it, the air reeks of blood.

**Jon**

Really? I've never heard of that place. Not one of the normal haunts?

**Melanie**

_ (Excited)  _ yeah! It's so weird! Everyone has those places that they go to, that they investigate: mothman sightings, Nevada for area 51, bridges and tunnels, stuff everyone knows about and has said "hey it's safe!" But no one has talked about this place except my source! Isn't that awesome?!

**Jon**

_ (Awed)  _ That is… pretty impressive, Melanie. Who's going to help you record?

**Melanie**

_ (Downcast)  _ oh… y'know, my crew and… yeah my friends. Yeah. Those guys who'd  _ never _ leave me!

**Jon**

_ (Teasing)  _ Well then I guess there's no point mentioning that Tim used to be really into vlogging as a teen, is really good at video editing, and knows his way around a camera. But of course if you've got a crew, Georgie's mics would be fairly useless too, and my ability to research is too subpar for your crew.

**Melanie**

Alright! Alright! I get it jeez, I lied! Sorry.

**Jon**

_ (Softly)  _ I wasn't trying to catch you out, I was joking. You can ask for our assistance, it's ok. We're going to help you. You're not going alone.

**Melanie**

And you're not going to potato peel your skin off when I'm not looking?

**Jon**

No, but according to the polaroids Sasha took, me and Georgie have eyes in our vocal chords.

**Melanie**

Spooky nonsense?

**Jon**

Spooky nonsense.

Anyway, this is false. Two reasons why: no one has ever died on that pier in a way that would mean a ghost of a pregnant woman with her skin peeled off would appear, and also because there is a large statue by Damian Hirst called Verity which fits the exact location and description given of the woman. Feel free to look it up, but the statue is naked.

**Melanie**

Wow. I couldn't have been more wrong. But still! Maybe there's a soul tied to the statue. Hirst  _ is _ known for his use of animal and human remains in his art, maybe ghosts aren't too far fetched?

**Jon**

Maybe.

That's it, spooks and scaredy cats! Our show's over for tonight! If you enjoyed this story, find us on Twitter @N1ghtmare_Radio and tweet us if you think Melanie needs a better crew- sorry did I say that, I meant if the story is real or fake! I'm Jon Sims, she's Melanie King, and we hope you sleep well tonight!

**Jon and Melanie**

**(Simultaneously)**

Bye! 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! thank you for waiting so long, life has been... life. this chapter is unbetaed, but i would still like to yell my praises off the rooftop for my beta, paige! shes super awesome, and i couldn't live without her!  
> no content warnings for this chapter, i hope. if there's anything that squicks you or other wise please let me know.

**(10pm. Aren't you glad to be back? No? Too bad. Who said we would let you go?)**

**Georgie**

Welcome, all you creeps and critters to The Nightmare Radio: a selection of soul-sucking stories to shake you to your core! Tonight, we are delivering a tantalising terror, tailored to your tastes. 

**Jon**

How long did you stay up thinking of that one?

**Georgie**

Midnight, maybe one-ish.

**(Jon scoffs, then yelps a quiet ow)**

**Georgie**

**(Continued)**

Shush, you. Not everyone is an English nerd who can whack out similes in a second.

Good news! The ask box we opened last night has quickly been filled up! You guys are  _ really  _ active at 3am. Get some sleep!

**Jon**

It's the demons. They're only corporeal at 3am, Georgie, leave them alone.

First question is from bard but ardier, asking "have either of you seen something paranormal? Also I love your show!"

Personally I've had two experiences, neither very nice but I doubt they would be.

**Georgie**

_(Uncomfortable)_ I _have…_ I just don't want to talk about it.

I'm glad you like the show! We put a lot of effort into this every night, so whenever anyone tunes in, it's a great feeling!

Next question is by Jimmy Magma kinnie-

**Jon**

Really Tim? Are you kidding me?

**Georgie**

_ (Georgie scoffs)  _ This question is by Tim Stoker, from The Magnus Institute, asking "What is your favourite story you've ever read? And yes, Jon is allowed to infodump."

Ok, I'll make this brief so Jon doesn't wait. My favourite is probably that one about Melanie's trip to that village, in Kent, where she saw The Watercress Woman.

**Jon**

You're just saying that because she's your girlfriend.

**Georgie**

That, and she's a better story-teller than you.

**Jon**

Uh huh.

My personal favourite is the story of the man who grew painful, glass like scales out of his skin, always bleeding and crying. The description was very good, very visual, and the dialogue wasn't that bad for once. You'd be surprised how many stories have awful speech, so well done on that front. There wasn't anyone who said "I love you regardless" which to some is a shame but I thought was an amazing relief! Romance and horror? Not a good mix. Call me heartless but I actually have standards. As well as this, relationships are likely to turn sour, both with the likelihood of dependency due to the surrounding trauma of horror stories, and also the annoyance of "I didn't tell you because I was trying to protect you!". 

Ok, I'm done.

**Georgie**

Well that wasn't nearly as long as I thought it would be.

**Jon**

Thank you! I tried very hard not to go on a tangent.

An ask from Do A Barrel Roll: "what is your favourite breed of cat?"

Yes.

**Georgie**

_ (Chortling)  _ Just yes?

**Jon**

You can't force me to pick. All cats are good cats.

**Georgie**

Even the furless ones?

**Jon**

_ Especially  _ the furless ones.

**Georgie**

Good answer. I like Scottish folds. Round heads, ten out of ten.

**Jon**

_ (Mock hurt)  _ You dare betray The Admiral like this?

**Georgie**

I love The Admiral more than you know, but Scottish folds, Jon. Scottish folds.

Well thank you Do A Barrel Roll for making Jon pout at me  _ like an adult _ . Next question by Lenòvó-

**Jon**

_ (Shocked)  _ how did you even say that?

**Georgie**

You will never know.

Lenòvó asks "Does Georgie Barker is gay?"

No! Georgie Barker does queer! MWAHAHA!

**Jon**

Ok Dracula.

**Georgie**

I prefer Camilla, but whatever.

**Jon**

Bi furious asks "what Disney film do you always cry to"

None because Disney is soulless.

**Georgie**

They're lying. It's wall-e. And mine is Treasure Planet.

And that's the last question we're answering today! Thank you everyone who sent a question, and I'm sorry if we missed your ask, we'll try our hardest to fit it in tomorrow!

**Jon**

And now, our story. Tonight's tale to deliver your tremors is about a delivery man and his partner, who transport treacherous objects to unwitting receivers, from an outsider's perspective. The story of Breekon and Hope delivery service.

**Georgie**

So get comfy, settle down with whatever you think keeps you safe. Check your doors, your cupboards, your wardrobe; our story may bring the monsters out to play. Are you ready?

**(The dead air sounds like nothing you've ever heard before, drawn out yet staccato. Is it even static?)**

_ Then let's begin _

**Jon**

**(Recorded)**

Return to sender, story of Arthur Breekon.

Narrated by Jonathan Sims.

" _ Three years. It was three years ago when they arrived. It wasn’t much, the little delivery company I’d built up, poured my heart and soul into. I don’t know why they wanted it. But they did." _

**Georgie**

Huh. That was pretty… interesting.

**Jon**

Certainly. There's some writing at the bottom of the page, reading "stranger/I do not know you". It's an interesting notation, and it definitely fits with these new, name stealing men. Are they even men?

**Georgie**

Maybe male presenting?

Either way, I did a bit of research- not too much, I wouldn't want to dampen our readers' eager need to learn.

**(The audio becomes slightly staticy, as though purring, or a happy hum)**

**Georgie**

**(Continued)**

But it's probably from a philosophy that was around in the 1800s called "Smirke's fourteen". It's the idea that entities unlike anything we've seen feed off of our fears. The ones I remember are The Stranger (as mentioned), The Web, and The Eye.

**Jon**

Pardon sorry, what was that last one?

**Georgie**

The Eye, The Beholding, it knows you. 

_ (Worried) _ Jon, I don't like that look on your face.

**Jon**

Do you- do you remember Jane? Jane Prentiss?

**Georgie**

That worm woman you accidentally made friends with?

**Jon**

Made friends with? Excuse me! It was really awkward!

**Georgie**

You acted the same with me.

**Jon**

Yes but I didn't think you were going to kill me!

**(Georgie hums sceptically)**

**Jon**

**(Continued)**

Okay, maybe a little, but in my defence, you were wearing really tall boots, and looking down at me like I was a microorganism in a Petri dish: ergo, not my fault.

_ (Seriously)  _ But, yes, Jane. She… she said something.

**Georgie**

Not going to lie, Jon, she said a lot of things.  _ (Concerned)  _ Including your name as she died, are you okay?

**Jon**

Oh I thought I was just really high off CO² and hallucinated that.  _ Thanks for reminding me _ . Can you maybe stop derailing me, I'm trying to make a point. Jane called me an "eye person". It didn't make sense at the time, but what if she believes in Smirke's fourteen?

**Georgie**

Maybe. Or maybe she doesn't. It's getting late, and we haven't even said if it's true or not. I know for a fact you pulled an all nighter last night; you need sleep.

**Jon**

Yes, yes, I know. I think it's true. I don't have any evidence, I just feel… fuller. Like I ate a good meal. I might have to ask Sasha about that. She's going through a similar thing, right?

**Georgie**

I'm pretty sure Sasha is going through it slower than us. We read these stories every night, and so many people on the web tell their stories to us. Sasha only has the statements in her archives, and she reads a statement every two days. You know most of those are fake, right?

**Jon**

Of course I do, I just want answers! I need someone else other than us who's going through this, Georgie! Just one other person who thinks we're… normal.

**(A phone dings and vibrates)**

**Georgie**

_ (Irritated but friendly)  _ Come on, Jon, I thought I told you to mute your phone while we're on air!

**Jon**

It  _ is  _ muted! It's from a contact I never put in my phone, I swear. "A. Cane" sent a message: "meet-

**Georgie**

What's wrong?

**Jon**

I expected my voice to change before I read it. Nothing's happened.

**Georgie**

Pass your phone here. "Meet me at Chelsea Potter, 9:30pm, Monday 8th February. Bring your tape recorder. I'm sure you'll be there." 

Huh. That's really weird. Why'd they choose the potter? 

**Jon**

It's cheap? Pretty local too, so that was nice of them. Can we even trust them?

**Georgie**

Well, they seem to know their stuff. Last time we even mentioned this old fashioned tape recorder was November. 

**Jon**

Forget it. I don't think we have a choice on whether to go.

That's it for tonight, our lovely listeners! If you think Georgie needs to stop nagging me about my sleep schedule- and I'm not taking that back- leave us a tweet @N1ghtmare_Radio. Please leave more questions as well! We will get around to them, eventually. As always, she's Georgie Barker, I'm Jonathan Sims and we hope you sleep well tonight.

**Jon and Georgie**

**(Simultaneously)**

Bye!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a subtle nudge that you can leave any questions for the characters in the comments, wink wink nudge nudge i dont know what im doing anymore. if Annabelle cane makes you want to defenestrate your reading device, then i have done an amazing job.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh gross a spider.

**(The radio turns on at 9:20pm, instead of 10. You can feel it more than hear it, the rumble of curling static latching onto your mind. "Please," you cry, "please I just want it to stop!"**

**(It doesn't stop.)**

**(The familiar hubbub of a pub rattles out of the radio, that _damned_ radio. Finger nails tap against a wooden table, pause, then start again.)**

**Georgie**

So… any clue who this "A. Cane" is?

**Jon**

None. They could be a murderer for all we know.

**Georgie**

_ (Sarcastically)  _ Thank you, Jon! Always so optimistic!

**Jon**

I take it you're worried?

**Georgie**

Who wouldn't be? This could be literally anyone! And really, why did we read it out loud  _ on radio?!  _ Now any listener could show up and say they were A. Cane- just to take the mick! 

**Jon**

Georgie, no one even knows what we look like. Calm down. We've got ten minutes, I'm going to get some drinks. I'm having a lemonade, you want anything?

**Georgie**

I'll have a moretti-

**Jon**

No alcohol. I'm not getting you drink when you're nervous, Georgie. 

**Georgie**

I know.  _ (Sighing)  _ I'll have a coke.

**Jon**

_ (Smugly)  _ How many lines?

**Georgie**

_ (Laughing slightly)  _ Jeez, Jon. You know what I meant. A large, please?

**Jon**

Coming right up.

**(There's a scrape of a chair against the floor, and then two flat taps against the table)**

**(Georgie starts to hum along with the song over the speakers. It's "the chain" by Fleetwood Mac)**

**Georgie**

_ (Sighing)  _ Maybe there's something on twitter. 

Hey, while this recorder's on, might as well answer some questions. See what you curious buggers are asking.

First question from VentisetteStars: "question from member of the spooky brigade to either: Do any of the stories you read give you nightmares?"

Funny you'd ask that actually. Only some give me nightmares, the ones Jon seems to know are real. They're a bit weird about their dreams, so I think they get nightmares too.  _ (Wistfully)  _ They seem to… echo? Yeah. Scenes played out again, and again. Like watching actors play out the same acts, trying to get them perfect, but they don't want to play the roles.

On to the next one by… Dinosaurfeathers: "Question to our lovely hosts: How is it like working together?"

I personally love it. No better person to work with, than a workaholic themself! Jon's great at getting the stories, whether they enjoy it or are just doing it for me, who knows? I don't have the connections to places like the Institute, and… police records? I think one of Jon's- ahem- "friends" helps get those.

I like the idea of working with Melanie King, but I don't think we'd get work done. Normally Jon emails me when they can't be at the studio with the story of the day. They're handy to have around.

And… that last question is for Jon. I'm not going to answer it for them, that's just rude.

**A. Cane**

Sorry, is anyone sitting here?

**Georgie**

I'm sorry, what?

Oh. My friend will be back soon; that seat is taken.

**A. Cane**

They're right here actually.

**Jon**

Oh hey, Georgie, sorry that took so long. I-

**A. Cane**

Hello Jon. Georgie. Nice to meet you before the others do.

**Georgie**

_ (Suspiciously)  _ And you are..?

**A. Cane**

Annabelle Cane, at your service.

**Jon**

_ (Disgusted)  _ Stop smiling like that, spider.

**Georgie**

Jon, what are you doing?!

**Annabelle**

_ (Condescending)  _ Aw, look at you. Jon, I haven't seen you in  _ ages _ ! Come on! You can handle a few bugs but don't like the mean, old spider? Who put ants in  _ your  _ pants.

**Jon**

Not sure. Maybe the same person who made a Leitner of a children's book.

**Annabelle**

Now Leitner…  _ that's _ a name I haven't heard in a while. And it's really your fault for picking up the book. I didn’t give the thing to you. You're just annoyed because I'm "with" the spider.

Now, my dear Host, if you could please  _ shut your trap _ that would be much appreciated.

**(Jon's jaw snaps shut with an audible click)**

**Georgie**

Okay, you've annoyed my friend, and you've sat down uninvited:  **why are you here?**

**Annabelle**

_ Fancy asking!  _ Wow. No one's ever tried  _ that _ before.

You're broadcasting our world to the entire country, and I need to step in before you do any harm. Damage control for the babies, you understand? Either I stop you from your little game of spookums, or I tell you what's  _ really _ going on.

**Georgie**

And why should we trust you?

**Annabelle**

Because I'm all you've got!

Oh don't look at me like that. What? You think your little Archivist is going to get the answers? She's just as clueless as you are, and she doesn't even trust you in the first place. I know all you need to know. I've been in this scene far longer than anyone else. I'm your best bet.

**Georgie**

But I thought-

**Annabelle**

And that's the problem. You tried to think it out, and obviously you came up with the wrong thing. It's okay, it's not your fault. 

**Georgie**

_ (agitated)  _ Can you  _ stop  _ talking to us like we're children! What- you think you can dance around us with your "I know everything, no one can help you" shtick like I don't know what manipulating is? I know  _ exactly  _ what people like you do.

**Annabelle**

But you  _ don't  _ know, do you?

**Georgie**

I'm leaving. Come on, Jon

**Annabelle**

No, I'm sure you're not. Sit back down.

**Georgie**

_ Fine _ .

**Jon**

_ (chuckling)  _ step into my parlour, said the spider to the fly.

**Annabelle**

My! You do learn fast. Unfortunately, you also waste my time. Here's a copy of Smirke's philosophy, take it, read it, burn it for all I care. And a story for the two of you. Savour it.

**(Paper crinkles as it’s handed from Annabelle to Jon. They snatch it away quickly.)**

**Jon**

Smirke? That’s that man with the fourteen entities, right?. What are they?

**Annabelle**

To you? Who you worship. Who you  _ feed.  _ Right now, the Stranger, the eye, and the web are getting a real kick out of your show, but it's divided between them. Seeing as I am here, something's not happy about this situation. Better pick quickly, before something catches you first.

**Georgie**

I thought we were already claimed. I had an eye on my throat in that Polaroid.

**Annabelle**

That Polaroid camera that Sasha James found in artifact storage only "sees" where your source of power is. Yours is in your voice. Your little mimicry of voices fulfils the "uncanny Valley" effect of the stranger, your stories fulfil the hunger for knowledge of the eye, and the Spider just likes the tales you spin.

**Jon**

Fuck the web, the spider- whatever. It's not getting shit from us.

**Annabelle**

Well Jonny boy, some are going to be very… unhappy about your decision. What if it's the wrong choice? How will you ever know if you did the right thing?

**Georgie**

Oh fuck off. You've told us what we need to know; Jon, let's just get out of here.

**(Two chairs scuff against the floor, and the tape recorder clatters against the table as it's picked up. Jon and Georgie's footsteps thump quickly as they walk out. The door swings open, then shut; the harsh winds of a winter night in London howl)**

**Georgie**

_(accusative)_ You knew her.

**Jon**

Please, Georgie. Not now. Let's just get back to your flat.

**Author's Note:**

> How was it? Good, bad, alright at best? leave a comment telling me what you think! I hunger for your feelings, and eat emotional distress, but you don't need to know that.


End file.
